


So Disappointing

by suckitdomitian



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckitdomitian/pseuds/suckitdomitian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>His attempt to kill Victoria Hand and free Garrett failed, leaving Garrett dead, Ward wounded and exposed, and Victoria Hand rather annoyed. With his mentor dead and HYDRA allegiances revealed, Ward has to deal with the fallout from both his team's new found knowledge and Garrett's scattered HYDRA cell looking for a new master plan.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For a moment, it was like he’d blacked out. He hadn’t. He was still aware, still conscious when the gun that had been stripped out of his hands was leveled away from him, pointed at John, and the cabin wall was decorated with his mentor’s brains. But the pain that had blossomed in his gut from the round she’d put in him after getting the gun away left him feeling like he was floating in a haze. He barely felt himself hit the floor, barely noticed Hand disappear out of the cargo hold and into the cockpit until he heard the door slam shut as she reentered the room. The quiet tsking sounds she was making seemed a world away, and it wasn’t until her hand pressed against his abdomen that Grant Ward snapped back into reality.

It was an entirely different searing pain that brought him back into himself, and the hand that snagged his shoulder to keep him from shooting up left him swimming as his gaze struggled to fix on Hand.

"Whoa there, big boy. You move too much, you’re just going to make yourself bleed quicker," Hand said, the shift of his gaze to his stomach finally drew Ward’s eyes down to the blood pooling out of his stomach, soaking into the fabric of his shirt and spilling onto the floor. "I need to you to stay still. All right?"

Ward nodded, obediently sinking to the floor as she pushed him down. It was hardly the first time Ward had been shot. It wasn’t even the worst injury he’d ever had. But the unnerving conjuction of the gaping wound and the person who had given it to him trying to cover it was leaving him in a quiet state of disbelief. In the past, when someone had gut shot him, they’d left him to bleed out wherever he’d fallen. But if he was reading this right, she was actually making an effort to extract the bullet before it perforated any of his organs. Or, anymore. It was hard to tell like this what sort of damage had been done. It hurt just as much either way.

"Well," Hand’s voice echoed in the cabin as the bullet clinked into the container she’d fished out of the first aid kit, "we’re going to need to get you to the medical facility the second we get back, but you’re not going to die. I’m not sure whether or not that’s good news for you, though, Agent Ward. Or should I just call you Ward now? What do HYDRA operatives call each other?  _Herr?_ ”

"My German isn’t great, but I’m pretty sure that’s just mister," Ward muttered, closing his eyes to try and ignore the fact that she was dressing his wound, a wound that she had given him, while they were surrounded by dead bodies, most of which he was responsible for. Had he slipped into some parallel reality where anything about this situation made sense? "You could just shoot me again, you know. Take care of the problem."

"Now, why would I do that when I’ve already gone to the trouble of fixing you up? Think, Ward," Ward winced at a sudden rapping on his skull that he assumed could only be Hand’s knuckles against his forehead before opening his eyes to confirm it. "I thought you were supposed to be good at that. Not that anything you’ve done has demonstrated that so far. Did you  _really_  think you could pull a gun on me and get away with it?”

"I’d hoped the shock of your men dead would be enough to catch you off guard."

"Well, you miscalculated, Ward," Hand said, unrolling the emergency blanket and throwing it over him before standing, rubbing her hands together to try and remove the drying blood. "Everything considered, I can’t say I find this particularly surprising. Your history with Garrett was far more significant than Agent Triplett’s. He brought you in, trained you, oversaw your operational activity for almost a decade. And yet, I let Coulson’s faith in you blind me to what should have been obvious. He’s going to be so disappointed."

Ward shifted, frowning to himself as he tucked the emergency blanket in around himself and tried to ignore the pain quivering through his body, begging him to go into shock, “You say that like it should matter to me,” Ward replied, the attempt at putting venom into his words coming out half-assed, at best, even with the way that she smiled at his response provoked what his last statement had lacked.

"Try again. This time, with  _feeling_ ,” Hand said, shifting down onto the bench that he’d been occupying earlier. It was the one free seat in this hold that wasn’t already occupied by a corpse, so why not? “You were willing to throw everything away for that man over there. Why don’t you tell me why?”

"Why don’t you mind your own business?"

"Defensive. Interesting. But we can work with that. Settle in, Ward. We’ve got a long flight back."


	2. Chapter 2

Their return to the Hub was blurry in his head, revisited in a bunch of snippets between moments of unconsciousness. He remembered the horror on Jemma's face when he was rolled off the plane, her attempt to attend to his wounds before Hand pulled her aside, held her as she fought despite the fact that there was already a team of doctors with him. He remembered Skye and Coulson being confused, words lost in the haze of the medical team around him. _'Garrett?' 'No. Me.'_

He remembered being wheeled away, strapped to a gurney in a way that wasn't entirely to keep him from hurting himself more, as Hand explained...the only thing there was to explain.

And then he remembered darkness.

"You sick selfish son of a bitch."

"I _trusted_ you. After everything, I trusted you. God. Did you always know?"

"I don't believe it. I don't care what Hand says. You're our friend. You wouldn't do something like that."

"The angle of the wound, her height. A round Garrett fired would have pierced straight on, not at an angle. She shot you. She had to. She was the only one on that plane that could match your height like that. God, Ward. Why?"

"Impressive. How long were you under? Since the beginning? Garrett was the one who recruited you. It makes sense. Too much sense. I don't know why I didn't see it before."

"I know you're awake."

Ward cracked an eye, taking in Coulson's expression for a moment before shifting, as much as he could with his wrists strapped to the bed railings, and looking full on at the other man. Whether any of the others had realized he'd been listening as they ranted, pleading questions, spitting anger, and emotionally denying the truth, Ward didn't know, but it would stand to reason that Coulson wouldn't let it go. Not when he could glare disapprovingly and threaten him like usual.

"I could ask why, but I imagine that's pointless. Hail Hydra and what-not. You don't need much of a reason beyond that," Coulson said, sitting down in a chair that had been pulled up next to his bed. How long had that been there? "I let you on that plane with Hand because I knew you had to see the job through, to let you make up for shooting the wrong man. I shouldn't have been so shortsighted as to not consider _what_ job you might have been seeing through or _why_ you shot the wrong man. Fool me once, Ward. It's not going to happen again."

Yes. Fine. That was all lovely. What was the point of this, exactly? Ward knew all too well what sort of interrogation he was going to face the second that he'd recovered enough to be dragged into a room. Coulson, Hand, May, and knowing them, they'd probably pull in Hill and/or Romanoff to assist. All and all, bound to be a delight. Especially as he was their only source of information available that wasn't in the lower ranks. He was no level eight or nine mastermind, granted, but a seven was better than nothing at the end of the day.

"Just tell me what you want, Coulson," Ward said, his neutral expression shifting into a scowl at Coulson _smiled_ , of all things.

"What I want, Grant," Coulson said, leaning forward in the chair, getting close enough that Ward felt an urge to draw away, brace himself. The look in the other man's eyes was something he'd seen before, and it had never been in a good way. "What I want, is for you to tell me exactly what Garrett intended to do, in detail, right down to the most exact aspects of the plan that you can recall. I want names. I want locations. I want a playbook so I know exactly how to take down every single one of you that's left. Now, you can tell me all this willingly, or the next interrogation we do together, you're going to be the one May's beating to a pulp, not the one watching."

"I'd expect nothing less, sir," Was Ward's vague reply, a distance sinking into his gaze as he laid back against the bed, eyes fixing on the ceiling. Straightforward defiance was only effective so long as one had the upperhand. Once it was obvious the balance of power had shifted, straightforward defiance would only earn you that much more pain. Ward wasn't sure how long he could maintain the passivity in the face of it all, but he'd tried. Garrett might not need his protection any longer, but those secrets were all that was left of the man. Ward so no reason to let go of them without a fight.

Coulson stood, sparing Ward once last glance before heading for the door, "If the rest of them come to see you, at least tell them the truth. You owe them that much."

Maybe. Maybe he did. But it wasn't like it would change anything.

"He doesn't owe them anything, Coulson," Hand's voice countered from across the room, causing Ward's head to jerk up. How long had she been standing there? Just for Coulson? Or...for everyone? "He's not one of us. He never was. Your team's just cannon fodder to him. Isn't that right, Ward? No more mission, no more reason to keep them alive. It rather colors all of the reports that I read. Jumping out of a plane, placing yourself in the line of fire, telling Fitz to save himself. It must have been so frustrating getting shot, stabbed, and incapacitated numerous times for people that don't matter at all to you."

She was trying to bait him. It was so obvious. It was so painfully obvious. But it was working.

"Care to tell us how you managed it, Ward?" Hand asked, stepping out of the doorway and crossing over to him, leaving Coulson to be the one to linger. He'd clearly been aiming to leave before, but this one one-sided exchange had changed his mind. "I've seen some elaborate mental mission compartmentalization in my day, but this has to take the cake. Especially considering the tales I've been hearing from May and Skye. Were you winding up to take a crack at Simmons, too?"

"Oh, for god's sake," The disgust on his face was clearly evident, even if it switched immediately to confusion the second Hand smiled.

"There's your leverage, Phil," She said, turning on a heel and sweeping past him. "Use it wisely."

Dumbfound, Ward just blinked as Coulson disappeared out of the ward as well. What had just happened?


	3. Chapter 3

"What was that?"

Victoria knew she shouldn't be surprised by the demanding tone in Coulson's voice. She wasn't surprised he was confused, either. The issue was clear. They were all seeing this through a haze of emotion, through the vicious tendrils of betrayal and a desire for vengenance that would creep in and unalign even the best agents. She knew because that had been exactly what had happened with John, the exact reason she'd wanted him in the ground instead of in a holding cell. They had had each others' backs for years. Lisbon, Montenegró, Kampala. He'd always been a raging dick and a condescending sexist. But he'd also been a man who firmly believed in never leaving another man behind, who would stick by your side no matter the odds stacks against you, who would look the devil right in the face and tell him to go back to hell alone because no one was dying here today.

Dealing with the truth about Jasper, someone who had been her friends for decades and her second since she'd been appointed as Hub Director, had been tough enough, but to have Garrett surface as one of them as well, it had been too much. Anger had translated into rage, and rage had needed to be translated into something so that it wouldn't end up consuming her, twisting her motives from the inside out and pushing her into doing things that she would ultimately regret. Shooting Garrett in the head had rather quickly resolved most of her immediate feelings on the subject. But such a release was a benefit that Coulson seemed to be lacking and the degree to which it was clouding his judgment was already obvious. He was usually so good at recognizing when to use emotional tactics.

"You know as well as I do that Ward has been trained to resist all known forms of physical interrogation," Victoria said, leveling Coulson with an unimpressed stare. What they needed right now was information, and Ward was no civilian who could be cracked with a few swift blows to the head or a table full of frightening looking tools that none of them intended to use. He knew all the tricks. According to his file, on occasion, he'd been the tricks. If they tried to do this the usual way, they'd just end up treading water. "We're going to have to be more creative. Or rather, you're going to have to be. I have more important things to attend to than one rogue agent. But I suppose if you need the assistance," which it was honestly starting to look like he was going to since Phil was still staring at her with an obvious lack of comprehension etched across his face, "I could allow someone else to handle the clean up for the time being. At least until we're able to sort out the crux of this situation."

"And if Ward and Garrett being traitors isn't the crux of this situation, Victoria, would you care to enlighten me to what is?" The way that Phil crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her was enough to make her blood boil. Fine. He was allowed to doubt all he wanted, but she'd be quite content to tell him 'I told you so' when her suspicions were confirmed.

"Why, Coulson," Victoria said, casting a long look back at the medical ward. That was always the crux as far as she saw it. She might not have particularly cared for excuses, but understanding motivations made it that much easier to figure out how to work the angles. "And what they planned to gain. Maybe if we know that, we'll be able to figure out their next step before it's set in motion."

* * *

"You can't be serious," Skye was perhaps the most aghast of all of them. But Victoria was set on her proposal. The hard way and the easy way were not the only two approaches to take when looking for information especially when you had weaknesses to exploit. And right now, she was looking at a room full of them. "You want us to talk to him? After everything you told us he did, after you told us what he is, we're just supposed to...what, go in there and make nice? No offense, Agent Hand, but that's about the worst idea I've ever heard."

"And I appreciate your perspective, Skye," Victoria said, casting a glance at the younger woman. "However unnuanced it may be, but we need what he knows. I don't have the time to build enough of a rapport to get him off the defensive, and quite frankly, I don't trust Coulson to handle this situation on his own. Which is why I'm asking each of you to at least consider what I'm proposing. But I will understand if you'd rather sit it out."

"I will," Fitz was the first voice to speak up, no hesitation in the words. "There's more to this. There's got to be. Ward wouldn't do this to us. He wouldn't. He's--"

"Fitz," Jemma's voice was soft, considerate but pained, as she put a hand on her friend's shoulder as his gaze dropped to the table in front of them. "If it'll help, Agent Hand, I'll try."

"I do have a few questions I would rather ask him when he's conscious," May said as Trip nodded in agreement.

"I wouldn't mind a shot at him, either. Even if I'm probably not who you had in mind for this," Trip said.

The sideways glance that he made at Skye wasn't hard to miss, and he was right on that matter. From everything Coulson had been willing to tell her about his team when she'd pressed, Skye was the most likely out of all of them to make a dent. Still. Four out of six might be enough to push him over the edge.

"We'll have to space this out so it doesn't seem deliberate," Victoria said, leaning forward on the table, hands folded as she glanced between each of the people in front of her. Skye and Coulson were both steadily avoiding her gaze as if she was a school teacher who would call on them for making eye contact. Why did she have to work with such children? "Melinda, you go in first. He's the most likely to be defensive with you. Best to get that out of the way early. Trip, you follow up. You're a specialist. He'll still feel the need to have his guard up around you. Simmons, Fitz, you'll go in last. Seperately or together, that's up to you. Phil," Victoria said, calling the man's attention and smiling as his expression soured, "you'll accompany me once they've each had their turn."

"And what about me?" Skye interrupted. "What am I supposed to do? Just sit on the sidelines and let you guys play make nice with the secret murderer?"

"You're welcome to entertain yourself," Victoria said as she stood. She really didn't have time to indulge Skye's indignance at being left out of something she'd made it clear she wanted nothing to do with. "And the boys in communications probably wouldn't mind a hand. Be creative, Skye. I'm sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied."

Nobody had to tell Victoria what that indignant little noise Skye made as she turned and walked out of the room meant. She'd made it more than a few times in her own career, after all. Usually right before she went against orders. Victoria smiled to herself. She had expected nothing less.


	4. Chapter 4

“I think you owe me an explanation,” Melinda had absolutely no intention of sugarcoating her approach. Watching from one of the Hub’s communication arrays, Victoria couldn’t help but appreciate the way that she’d swept into the room and not even allowed Ward the time to react to her entrance. Even if Ward hadn’t been immobilized, cuffed to a hospital bed, May still would have been the domineering force in that room. “What was it you said to me? _‘I deserve to know’?_ Did you not think I deserved the same consideration, Ward, or was the fact that Coulson thought _I_ was the threat when you knew _you_ were just too amusing for you not to prod at?”

The shift in his demeanor was interesting. Victoria had noted how his entire body had tensed as Melinda entered the room, hands gripping around the bed railings that they were cuffed to, as he tried to pull himself upright. He was in the weak position here, defensive, and he knew it, but the sudden slack in his shoulders at her words wasn’t the body language of someone getting ready to fight. It was the body language of someone ready to admit defeat.

His _words_ , on the other hand, “What the hell do you want me to say?” Ward spat, a micro expression of pain twitching his features as he jerked too hard to one side. “I did what I had to do.”

“That’s always your answer, isn’t it?” Melinda asked, amusement mingling with the irritation seeping into her features. “Never what you should have done or could have done. Always what you _had_ to do, as if you had no choice in the matter. Pristine record from a top military academy, off the chart marks on every entrance exam SpecOps required, a linguistic aptitude that only one out of every hundred candidates can manage. You could have chosen anything, Ward, and yet, you picked HYDRA. What do I want you to say? How about you start with what’s so screwed up inside of you that you thought their way was the right way.”

Silence was always especially telling in an operative who was trained in all of the ways to throw off or complicate an interrogation. Silence was your least effective option. Silence was what you did when you were out of options, when your stories had worn thin and your interrogators were no longer buying the lies you were feeding them. It wasn’t what you started with.

Starting with silence meant you had nothing to say.

“You think you know everything,” Ward sneered. Interesting. So maybe he did have something to say after all. “You and Coulson, just because you read my file. Like a few pages in a dossier can tell you everything that you need to know to judge my choices. You know the game, May. You better than anyone. We follow orders. We get the job done, whatever that job may be.”

“Not when it’s a job like that!” Melinda’s counter was sudden, sharp, the step that she took forward causing Ward sink back into the bed. “Not when it’s… You could have changed your mind at any time. Garrett might have brought you in under their banner, but you could have switched sides. You could have walked away. You could have killed him like Agent Hand told you to, and nobody would have been the wiser. I just want to know why, Ward. Out of everything you could have done, everything you could have been, why did it have to be this?”

“What would you have preferred?” Ward bit, gaze shifting up at her, but it lacked the edge he was forcing into his tone. “CIA? AIM? SWORD? I’m sure they have just as many plants in SHIELD. You guys aren’t exactly the best at sharing information.”

“This is not about us, Ward.”

“IT WAS ALWAYS ABOUT YOU!” The sudden rage and frustration that burst out of him would have made any lesser agent jump. The only sign that anything had shifted in the room was a slight widening of Melinda’s eyes. “Your precious, moral SHIELD. Always with the higher ground, always knowing what they were doing, what sacrifices were worth it when human life was less critical than the mission, when the mission was less critical than the truth. You think you can stand there and lecture me about choices, May, when all I was doing was following my orders the same as you. SHIELD, HYDRA, it’s all the same in the end. I bet none of you even know where the line is anymore.”

“No, Ward,” Melinda said, gaze narrowing as she stepped away from the bed and towards the door. She was done with this. She’d gotten the response that she was meant to elicit, and if she stuck around any longer, it would only drain the both of them beyond anything useful. “See, that’s the difference. That’s the difference between you and the rest of us. We have our own line. We don’t need someone else to draw it for us.”

* * *

“Did you get what you expected?” Melinda’s question as she stepped into the surveillance room was forthright, curious and even tempered, as Victoria turned in her chair and looked up at her.

“Did you?”

“I expected more excuses,” Melinda said, walking over and taking a seat next to the other woman, sparing a glance at the monitors. “I was just following orders is pretty boiler plate for someone of Ward’s skill. He could have spun any tale he wanted and sold it. Why stick with something like that?”

“Maybe because it’s the truth,” Victoria suggested with a shrug. It wasn’t as though this wasn’t something she’d before. There was a well-documented self-preservation instinct in most specialists, but sometimes, something was just strong enough to snuff out their will. “John’s dead. Who does he have to lie for anymore?”

“Himself, his own well-being, his own future?”

“He wouldn’t be the first agent to decide his SO’s life was worth more than his own,” Especially at this age. Operatives did so much stupid shit at this age because of delusions of grandeur or equally as dangerous delusions that told them their superiors were worth more in the long run. “God knows when we were that age, Phil would have thrown himself on a grenade for Fury without hesitation. Jasper always said that was basically what he did by accepting the job of overseeing the Initiative, throwing himself on top of one of Fury’s potentially explosive messes and volunteering to be the clean-up guy in case shit went sideways. And look where that got him.”

“That’s different. Any of us would have—“ Melinda’s words were stopped dead by the look that Victoria threw her, a mixture of cold indifference and irritation. She’d respected Fury. She’d even liked him well enough when he wasn’t in commander mode, but there was absolutely nothing that she would have sacrificed for him. Not her ideals, not her authority, and certainly not her _life_. It was one of the reasons that she figured she had gotten the Hub appointment. Fury seemed to prefer the women close to him be a little more _flexible_ in their stance. “You really think that’s all it is? Misplaced loyalty?”

“God, no,” Victoria said, half rolling her eyes at the implication. “You don’t try and kill colleagues just because you’re overly attached to someone. Not unless you’re twelve with a severely skewed sense of morality. Something else is going on here. Go tell Trip he’s up. I think we’ve given him enough time to stew.”


	5. Chapter 5

No matter how many years she’d been doing this, Victoria found it intriguing just how much two specialists’ techniques could vary. While May was forthright, direct, stepping into the room and taking control before Ward ever had a chance to adjust to her presence, Trip took his time, kept his posture relaxed, and leveled Ward with little more than a skeptical stare. It was an impressive display. Victoria had seen Trip’s anger at Garrett. She could only assume the amount that he was holding onto the same amount for Ward. How he was keeping his restraint intact, she couldn’t even guess.

“You could have told me,” It was a simple statement. It was an _odd_ statement, and it prompted Victoria to lean a bit closer to the monitor and reach out to turn up the volume. She couldn’t have heard that right. Was Trip really making the supportive play right now? She didn’t think any of them would have that in them. But Antoine Triplett had proven himself to be full of surprises. She could only hope this played out the way he was hoping.

“Honestly, I wish you had. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like such an idiot for missing all the signs,” Trip said, pausing as his posture shifted, tensing, taking on a certain edge it hadn’t had before. “Maybe we could’ve done something about it before these bastards started tearing things down. Because, that’s the thing, Ward. Garrett, I can see. As much as I trusted him, as much as I put my faith in his orders, I don’t have to squint hard to see him being one of them. But you?”

“What about me? We don’t know each other that well, Trip,” Ward’s tone was strained but still collegial, without the bite that it had held for Melinda. This was going to be interesting to watch.

“Well enough,” Trip countered, arching an eyebrow at Ward. “You can’t tell me you don’t get a sense of people when you see them every single day for years, no matter how distant or isolated they make themselves. It’s what we do, what we’re trained to. We don’t act on them. We don’t comment on them. But we make them. You want to know what I saw in you?”

“Not really.”

“Fine. Why don’t you tell me what you saw in me first, and we’ll work our way up to you?”

Victoria couldn’t help but smirk at the way Trip flopped down in the chair next to Ward’s bed, kicking off his shoes and propping his feet up in the edge of the mattress, before flashing Ward a lazy grin as he tucked his arms behind his head. It was all an act, a put on to make it seem like he had absolutely nowhere to go and all the time in the world to lay around and wait for Ward to offer him up the information that he’d asked for. And the thing that made it even more impactful was that he did. There was no urgency now. Just a bunch of people regrouping with their major threat already eliminated. HYDRA was larger, yes, but there was only so much that they could do without information. Wasn’t that the whole point of this endeavor?

And it was made all that much more amusing by the fact that it was working. The frustration on Ward’s features was very clear as he kicked his leg to the side and knocked Trip’s feet off the bed, expressing souring further at Trip’s amusement at the action.

“Arrogant self-assured ass,” Ward spat. Trip just grinned in the face of Ward’s venom.

“Well, that’s a start,” Trip said. “Most people’s first impressions of me tend to be a _bit_ more positive than that, though.”

“You spent our first few months at the Academy harassing me, Trip. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Attempting to befriend, you jackass. You kept purposefully isolating yourself from everyone, and the few times you did try and talk to people, it was painfully obvious you had no clue what you were doing,” Trip said, leaning forward in the chair, hands gripping onto the railing on the hospital bed and giving it a shake out of frustration. “I was trying to make it easier for the well-meaning yet confused and _damaged_ person you struck me as. What twenty year old doesn’t know how to make friends?”

“One that’s never had any before,” Ward bit out, the venom gone from his voice despite the obvious irritation.

“Don’t give me that, Ward,” Trip said, disbelief schooling his features as he gave the railing a shake. “You weren’t a child, and you used to be a rich boy at a fancy prep school. Pretty sure that automatically wins you friends, even if most of them are phony as hell.”

Ward scoffed, head flopping back on the pillow and eyes gluing to the ceiling. Trip was going to lose him if he didn’t break that death stare, but there wasn’t anything Victoria could do but hope that Trip was skilled enough to get things back on track.

“Unless there’s something we’re missing,” again, the supportive play. Victoria wasn’t sure how much longer that would hold water when it seemed clear Ward didn’t want to deal, but she was willing to let it play out for as long as Trip was willing to push it. “I’m no Clairvoyant, Ward. If there’s something we’re not aware of, you’re going to have to verbalize it.”

“Why aren’t you angry?”

Victoria smiled to herself. Not exactly the cleverest distraction technique in the world but poking at the emotions that Triplett had to be concealing in order to get through this had the potential to derail the conversation somewhat. In fact, she could already see Trip’s features tightening at the question.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Trip said, folding his arms over the railing and leaning his head on them as he stared at Ward. “I’m pissed. Wouldn’t mind watching May separate your head from your shoulders, really, but I’ve never been one to let an opportunity to understand _why_ pass me by. So, hit me with it, Ward. What’s the big thing that none of us are aware of that made HYDRA seem like such a _fantastic_ idea? I’m genuinely curious.”

Ward’s head lulled to the side, listlessly shifting his gaze from the ceiling back to Trip, “Does it really matter, Trip? Cable version of the Kennedys, right? It was never going to end well.”

There was a pause, a furrow of Trip’s brow, and the other man was standing and exiting the room, leaving a stunned Ward blinking at his exit.

* * *

“What is it?” the second that Trip had gone to leave the hospital ward, Victoria had been on the move, meeting him half between the ward and the surveillance room. “Why did you stop? He didn’t give you anything.”

“That’s how he wanted it to seem,” Trip said, falling into lockstep with Victoria as he crossed the halls until he reached the Hub’s data processing center. “I did my own research on his family, beyond what was in the file. I wanted to know exactly who I was replacing when I got put with Garrett, you know? Told him that, when we were looking for information on Nash. It’s got to be something in there that we’re missing, something that’s not in his file.”

“What the hell would his childhood have to do with HYDRA?” Victoria asked, settling in behind Trip as he bowed over one of the computers, fingers flying over the keyboard in order to pull up his own personal record stores.

“I don’t know,” Trip said, shifting around to plop himself down in one of the chairs as soon as his files were retrieved. “It could be a wild goose chase. He could be trying to pull one over on us. But the only way I’ll know is to go back over everything. Go back. Send Fitz or Simmons in. I think he’s plenty soft enough for now them to pluck at his heartstrings.”

Victoria nodded. She didn’t really see the point of this, but she knew enough that sometimes, you had to let leads play themselves out whichever way they were going to go. And as it was, she was done with Trip. “Take whatever you find to Coulson. We’ll deal with it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Trip said, sparing at glance over his shoulder. “Go knock’em dead.”

“We’re not quite there yet.”


End file.
